


Drinking You In

by tone_is_everything



Category: Justified
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drinking, First Time, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn, Porn Without Plot, Smut, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tone_is_everything/pseuds/tone_is_everything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan and Tim get drunk together at a bar. Raylan flirts with Tim, and once Tim realizes he's serious, they grope their way back to Raylan's apartment and go at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Libations

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't enough Raylan/Tim smut fics out there. I'm slowly working on fixing that. ;) Enjoy!

Tim was trying to figure out if he'd ever seen Raylan this drunk when he realized Raylan had never seen _him_ this drunk. They were both talking loudly, laughing at lot, and couldn't stop grinning. Tim felt more content and comfortable than he had in a long time, and he was greatly enjoying Raylan's company.

Raylan and Tim had had the week from hell. First the two-day prisoner transport (which they both hate doing), then the hours-long foot chase through a swamp that ended with them returning empty-handed (and Art immediately screamed at them for coming back to the courthouse absolutely covered in mud and muck), then some botched paperwork (that was Raylan's fault) that led to even _more_ paperwork trying to fix it (Tim did most of it), and then finally Raylan's current fling stormed into the courthouse to scream at him about something trivial in front of everyone... and then told him to fuck off and stormed off in a huff. (Art yelled at Raylan for that spectacle, so Raylan got yelled at twice in a span of a dozen minutes.) Tim would've found that last bit funny under normal circumstances, but after the week they'd had, he felt bad for his partner.

At least it was Friday.

When Raylan had returned to his desk after Art's scolding, Tim looked up at him and simply asked, "Drinks?"

Raylan immediately sighed, "God, yes. All of them."

Even though it wasn't quite quitting time, he'd grabbed his hat and jacket and headed for the elevators, with Tim close behind him. Both of them diligently ignored the pointed look Rachel shot at them.

They had gone to a bar near Raylan's apartment, figuring he would be the one to get too drunk to drive, as he'd just been dumped by his fling and yelled at by Art. Besides, Tim was fine with taking a cab if he followed suit. Raylan had dropped off his gun, holster, and badge at his apartment; Tim left his gun, holster, and badge locked in a small case in his SUV. They didn't want to tarnish the Marshal image if they got too drunk and Raylan made a scene.

Now, after two shared pitchers of beer and at least a couple (few) bourbons each, it was very clear neither of them would be driving anywhere.

Raylan was really enjoying seeing Tim drunk. He'd seen him tipsy before, but not so drunk he got silly. Tim's adorable, goofy grin was plastered on his face, and he was outright laughing at a lot of Raylan's jokes and stories. And his attention was solidly on Raylan. It had been for at least an hour. Raylan found himself warmed by this; he liked those intense (and fond) big blue eyes riveted on him. And so he was determined to keep his partner's attention solely on himself.

Raylan was dominating the conversation, telling funny (and somewhat embellished) stories about random work-related adventures from his time in Miami. These were interspersed with a few lighthearted stories from Tim about his Army days -- but he was sure to keep far away from anything heavier. Raylan was progressively getting more and more relaxed, both from the alcohol and from Tim's obvious comfortableness with him; his movements were looser, his gestures bigger, and his affection for Tim was clearly showing.

It was in the middle of one of Tim's stories -- this one about a running joke among his unit where they kept hiding one guy's possessions, and all playing innocent about it -- that Raylan forgot to hold his tongue. He had been fondly studying Tim as he spoke, and growing warmer and more content as he watched his partner. He loved watching Tim talk. Tim really didn't do that enough. It gave Raylan an excuse to unabashedly stare at him.

"God, your eyes are pretty," Raylan sighed contentedly, without totally meaning to say that out loud.

Tim froze in surprise. His eyebrows quirked up in the middle, and his crooked smile spread until he was grinning again. He chuckled, clearly a little thrown by Raylan's comment and not totally sure how to interpret it. If he were sober, he might have hidden his reaction better. "You flirtin' with me, cowboy?"

Raylan was looking at him intently. He was also smirking, but his eyelids were lowered a little, and not just from the alcohol. Well, fuck it. Raylan had opened this door; might as well see where it led. "Maybe." He didn't look away.

Tim was still smiling his crooked smile as he studied Raylan for several moments. He honestly couldn't tell if Raylan was teasing him, or if there was some element of truth there.

Raylan was still watching him with that charged look.

Tim broke eye contact as he reached for his beer. His smile was faltering. "Thought you didn't swing that way." He tried to make it sound like he was playing along with the joke. He took a long drink of his beer, still without looking back at his partner.

Raylan casually shrugged, and let his eyes wander around a little. The smirk was still on his lips. Tim looked back at him and gave him a look that clearly read, _Oh, bullshit_. Raylan met his eyes again, raised his eyebrows, and defiantly held Tim's gaze. After a moment, Tim underscored his reaction by saying it out loud: "Bullshit." Raylan didn't waver in his expression or with their eye contact, but he did quirk his lips slightly and shrug one shoulder again.

Tim pointedly sat back in his chair and blatantly stared at Raylan, like he was throwing down a gauntlet. "Since when?" Though he was challenging Raylan, he was still drunk and therefore a bit amused by this, so he didn't sound as disbelieving as he might have sober.

Raylan's eyes wandered a little as he grabbed his beer and took a drink. "Since always, I suppose," he mused lightly. "It's not a common thing for me. But it's happened a couple times." He took another swig of his beer.

Tim's eyebrows went up. Against all prior contrary evidence of Raylan's sexuality, for whatever reason (wishful thinking, perhaps?), he was starting to believe the cowboy's claim. Tim could understand the desire to keep non-straight sexuality under wraps -- they were in Kentucky, after all, and also in a profession similar to the military in terms of a Don't Ask, Don't Tell expectation. Tim wasn't exactly in the closet, but he definitely didn't ever offer up information about his sexuality. Raylan had never asked, but Tim figured the man at least suspected he was gay.

And wait, was Raylan saying that he'd been attracted to men a couple times, or that he'd _been_ with men a couple times? The thought of Raylan with a man... Tim was momentarily distracted by fantasies he'd had many times before while jerking off: Raylan, naked, in his bed, begging for it--

Raylan's voice, still a light, casual tone, interrupted Tim's thoughts. "I mean, you're the only guy I've found attractive since I came back to Kentucky. So it's not like I've had many opportunities to flaunt it." Raylan's eyes were disinterestedly roaming the bar.

If Tim's eyebrows had jumped any higher, they would have left his face entirely. "Me?" he spat out incredulously. "You -- _you_ \-- think _**I'm**_ good-lookin'?"

Raylan's eyes shot back to Tim, and a slow, playful smile bloomed across his face as he realized the meaning behind Tim's question. Confident he knew the answer, he teased, "Why Tim, are you sayin' you find _me_ attractive?"

Tim barked a laugh, and shook his head at Raylan's question -- which, according to Tim, clearly should have been rhetorical. "Oh come on, Raylan, you're the sexiest thing in Kentucky, and you know it." Tim huffed in (fond) exasperation and took another drink of his beer.

Of course Raylan knew he was attractive. But Tim stating that compliment like a fact... he felt a flush of heat go through him, and couldn't help but grin. " _Just_ in Kentucky?" he teased.

Tim laughed, and ducked his head for a moment. When he looked back up at Raylan, both of them grinning, he suddenly became aware of how close together they were sitting at the little table. His chair was turned a bit towards Raylan's, with his knee close to bumping the side of Raylan's chair.

Tim played up his reluctance to the admission as he waved one hand dismissively at Raylan: "All right, you want me to say it out loud? Fine. Yeah, you're about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. You happy now?"

Raylan had a playfully devious look in his eyes, peering at Tim from under his Stetson. (God, he looked so good in that hat. Tim hated and loved Raylan's hat for exactly that reason.) The cowboy leaned sideways in his chair, towards Tim, and dangled a long arm over the arm of the chair, his fingertips brushing Tim's thigh, just above his knee. Heat shot up Tim's leg and warmed his groin. He realized he was already halfway hard (when did that happen?), and was breathing a bit harder.

"Not quite yet. I wanna hear what you want to do to me." The words poured out of Raylan's mouth like honey.

Tim stopped breathing.

Raylan's eyes were locked on Tim's. Raylan wasn't backing down. Tim had still been harboring a kernel of doubt that Raylan wasn't serious about this, and had been subconsciously waiting for him to reveal it was a cruel joke all along. Now those fears were having a last stand in Tim's brain, because if he continued down this path, there would be no going back, no way to play it off like he had been joking all along, too.

Raylan was looking at Tim like he wanted to tear off his partner's clothes, right there in the bar.

Tim barely remembered to breathe again.

Raylan correctly guessed, with all the confidence in the world, "Or are you waitin' for some proof that I wanna fuck you?"

Well, there went Tim's air again. Hearing those words come out of Raylan's mouth were delicious enough already; having them directed at _him_ made him almost come in his jeans right then.

Raylan lowered his hand on Tim's thigh so his palm was making contact, and then slowly slid it up Tim's leg. His eyes dropped to the same place, and the corners of his mouth quirked up in a devious, triumphant smile as his fingers came within inches of the noticeable bulge in Tim's jeans. As his eyes flicked back up to Tim's, he gently began rubbing his thumb back and forth, dipping it towards Tim's inner thigh.

Tim still wasn't moving or reacting to Raylan, but his breathing was erratic. He belatedly realized Raylan had asked him a question. He finally managed, in a strangled deadpan, "Yeah, some proof would be nice."

Raylan grinned lewdly at him. "In that case... wanna get outta here?" His thumb was still stroking Tim's inner thigh, and his fingertips were moving a little, threatening to touch -- but never quite making contact with -- Tim's erection.

Tim didn't say anything for a moment, his brain still trying to warn him about this all being a joke. But his brain was quickly ceasing to function as those gorgeous, big hazel eyes continued to stare into his, burning with intent. "Yeah," Tim breathed.

Raylan immediately stood up and turned toward the door. As Tim stood to follow him, he noticed Raylan's jeans were also much tighter than normal, due to a gorgeous bulge at his groin. Tim nearly swooned as he stood, he was so turned on.

They exited the bar into the slightly chilly night (which neither man felt at all), and Raylan set a brisk pace towards his apartment, a few blocks away. Tim was trailing behind him, drunk and painfully hard, his head reeling with this sudden turn of events.

They were about halfway there when Tim caught up to Raylan, falling into step one step behind him, when Raylan suddenly pushed up the front brim of his hat, whirled on Tim, caught him by the shoulders, and shoved him against the building they were passing. Tim's reflexes were slowed by the alcohol, so before he could react, Raylan's mouth slammed into his, quickly followed by his whole body pressing urgently against Tim's. Tim let out an involuntary groan as Raylan's upper thigh pressed and rubbed against his aching cock, and he felt Raylan's hard cock pressing and rubbing into his abdomen. And then there was his mouth... Oh god, his lips, his _tongue_ \-- Raylan's tongue was in Tim's mouth, and Raylan was urgently licking and sucking and nibbling at Tim like he had to completely consume him to stay alive.

Any lingering traces of doubt to Raylan's interest in him were burned from Tim's mind with the searing heat of their mouths and bodies pressing together.

Tim reached up and grabbed at the shirt over Raylan's chest with one hand; the other hand clamped down on Raylan's hip, strongly encouraging the small grinding motion his hips were dancing against Tim. Raylan made a soft, throaty moan as he complied and ground his hips harder against Tim.

Raylan took one of his large hands off Tim's shoulder and wrapped it around the back of his neck, guiding his head to tip slightly more to the side and a little back. When Tim readily complied, Raylan used the angle to thrust his tongue even deeper into Tim's mouth. Tim heard the desperate, throaty moan before he realized it was his. God, he couldn't remember the last time he was this turned on. Was this even happening? How could this amazingly sexy cowboy be desperate to fuck Tim's brains out? But Tim was too aroused to question it further, so he put it out of his mind.

The hand grabbing Raylan's shirt also flew to Raylan's hip, and Tim unabashedly ground their hips together, guiding Raylan with his strong hands. They were full-on humping each other, pressed against a building on the street. Neither man had noticed anyone else around, but they were drunk and hadn't really been looking. This thought flitted briefly into Tim's mind -- there might be people around who'd see them -- but he really couldn't care less right now. Raylan, the sexiest man he'd ever met, was close to making him come in his pants.

Tim had been making some desperate whimpering noises without realizing it, and Raylan pulled his mouth back from their kiss, both to catch his breath and to grin at Tim. Tim's eyes didn't open; his head dropped back against the brick building and he continued to grind their hips together, his mouth open and his face a slight grimace of pleasure. "Oh god," he panted, his mouth wet and red. Raylan could tell, for how hard and ragged Tim was breathing, that he was already getting close to coming.

Raylan was similarly panting. As much as he didn't want to stop, his apartment was only a couple blocks away, and he wanted them to do more than just dry-hump each other to orgasm. He reluctantly pushed back from Tim, whose eyes immediately snapped open, his face written in confusion and frustration at the loss. Raylan grinned at him and planted a hand on his own hip as he readjusted his hat back to its usual position.

"Let's get to my apartment. Now."

Tim's eyes shone in understanding. He nodded once.

Raylan turned on his heel and strode off, with Tim right behind him.


	2. Thirsty

As soon as they stepped into Raylan's apartment, Tim pounced on him. He grabbed the front of Raylan's shirt and yanked the taller man down a little to slam their mouths together, while his other hand grabbed Raylan's belt and yanked their hips together. The front brim of Raylan's hat was knocked upwards a bit from the impact of their heads. Raylan chuckled a little into Tim's mouth as he fumbled behind himself, trying to close and lock the door. As soon as he heard the _click_ of the lock, he grabbed at Tim and began steering them both towards the couch.

They had mostly gotten their breathing back under control during the short walk, and Tim was no longer close to coming in his jeans. (Though he was aware he was leaking copiously into his boxers.) But they were already quickly ramping up again. Raylan was sucking on Tim's lower lip while one hand tangled in the younger man's hair and the other was yanking up his shirt so that hand could feel the skin of Tim's back, ghosting over old scars as it explored. Tim was grasping at Raylan as if he could rip his clothes straight off him. He badly needed more contact with Raylan's skin, all of it. The noise of their wet kissing was punctuated by their periodic quiet, desperate moans and gasps of air before their mouths came together again.

Raylan suddenly roughly shoved Tim back onto the couch. Tim caught himself a little and landed mostly sitting upright instead of splayed out. Raylan wasted no time in hastily doffing his hat and tossing it onto a side table, then unbuttoning his shirt while he toed off his cowboy boots. Tim got the hint and yanked off his Army boots without bothering to unlace them, then his socks, and then his shirt over his head. When they were both dressed only in their jeans (and Tim still wearing his dog tags on a chain around his neck), Raylan quickly lowered himself onto Tim, turning him a bit sideways so Tim could lie down on the couch. Raylan's legs were interspersed with Tim's to allow them both to grind freely on the other's thigh. One of Raylan's hands threaded through Tim's hair, again pulling his head back a little so he could thrust his tongue deeper into his partner's mouth. The feeling of this hard body, the strength of the man, pressing down on top of him... Tim moaned and bucked up against the cowboy. Raylan obliged and began grinding against him as he deepened the kiss. He moved his free hand to Tim's chest, running his hand all over his chest and stomach (and his back, when Tim arched up into him). Raylan couldn't touch him enough.

Tim's hands were similarly running all over Raylan's (perfect) hard body: his chest, his abs, his back, his broad shoulders and upper arms... Tim was making little groans into Raylan's mouth as Raylan's tongue massaged his own. He was bucking up into Raylan's slim hips regularly, not getting enough grinding from Raylan. His cock was so hard it hurt, and he needed to feel Raylan's skin against his. He needed more of him. He needed all of him.

Tim was starting to feel a little unhinged, as if he would go mad if this continued. And he was perfectly accepting of that.

His hand slid down Raylan's abs and found his belt, which he began blindly undoing one-handedly. Halfway through, he was overtaken with impatience and began palming Raylan's hard cock through his jeans. Raylan broke their kiss just long enough to emit a wanton moan, encouraging Tim -- who pressed his hand against him harder, and began rhythmically massaging back and forth. Raylan had tried to start kissing Tim again, but he drew back just a little to pant against Tim's mouth as Tim rubbed his cock through his jeans. Tim took the moment to examine at Raylan's face, and then moaned out loud at what he saw: Raylan's face looked pained, his eyes closed tightly, his mouth slack, wet, and red, and he was panting through his open mouth. It was an utterly beautiful sight. Tim distantly recognized he was definitely going to jerk off while thinking of that face, many times in the future.

Raylan's eyes snapped open and looked at Tim, almost predatory. He roughly yanked Tim's head back by his hair, exposing the sniper's lean, muscular neck. And then he dived down to it, kissing, sucking, and biting all over Tim's neck, collarbone, and chest. Tim moaned out, "Oh _god_ yes," more loudly than he meant to, but he was beyond caring how he sounded right then. He also realized he should probably remind Raylan not to leave a mark on his skin, but right then, he wasn't bothered by the idea. In fact, he almost wanted Raylan to leave a bruise on his neck. Marking him. Claiming him.

The cowboy found a way to claim an existing mark on Tim -- his fleur-de-lis tattoo just under his collarbone, which (mostly) hid a combat scar. Raylan sucked hard on that flesh, hard enough to leave a mark. Tim found himself moaning loudly, arching up into it, and snapping his hands to Raylan's slim hips to grind them together so hard it was painful. He had no idea that would be so sexy to him, but he loved the idea of Raylan claiming not just himself, but also claiming the marks that had been previously put there by others.

Raylan raised himself up on his knees slightly, ceasing their grinding, without pulling his mouth off Tim's neck. His hands quickly reached down and undid Tim's belt, then his fly. Raylan's mouth went to Tim's just as he slipped his hand inside Tim's pants and grasped his hard cock.

A jolt of electricity shot through Tim -- he had been wanting Raylan to touch him for hours (well, really, for many months, now), and it was more gratifying than he thought possible. This was exactly what he needed. He needed it so fucking badly it hurt. It felt so good to have those long fingers touching him the way he had touched himself while he thought about Raylan, many times before.

Tim moaned loudly into Raylan's mouth and writhed under the cowboy, grinding up into his hand and body.

Raylan slid Tim's cock upwards, mostly pulling it free of his boxers. His thumb flicked over Tim's leaking head several times as he stroked him, lubricating the motion with Tim's precome. Raylan's mouth was close to Tim's as they panted into each other's air. "Jesus, Tim," Raylan breathed with approval. He wanted to comment about how much Tim was leaking, but he couldn't articulate it just then. So he settled for diving back to Tim's mouth, sucking at Tim's lower lip and then the tongue that was desperately thrust into his mouth.

Both Tim's hands flew to the sides of Raylan's neck and face, and Tim held him in place while he kissed him much more aggressively than he had before.

Raylan moaned with deep satisfaction and let Tim control the kiss for several long moments while he continued to pump his cock. He was slowly speeding up the motion, and Tim was starting to twitch a little erratically in response.

He reached down with his free hand and roughly yanked Tim's jeans and boxers a little farther down, fully freeing his dark red, leaking, hard cock. Raylan pumped his hand faster, making sure to put pressure from his thumb on the ridge on the underside of Tim's head with every pump.

Tim dropped his head back from their kiss, mouth open and continually moaning and panting, his eyes closed. His hands began wandering over Raylan's body, pausing for long moments as if he'd forgotten about them. He began thrusting up into Raylan's hand as Raylan continued to pump him, speeding up even more. "Oh god... yeah... god... _fuck yeah_ ," Tim was rambling and moaning with rapidly increasing desperation. "Oh god-- Raylan, I... I'm... oh god--"

Raylan abruptly let go of Tim's cock, sat up on his own knees, and began undoing his belt and jeans. Tim's eyes jerked open as he lifted his head, his eyes briefly flashing with indignation as he looked at Raylan. "Hey, what the--?" he growled, panting loudly.

Raylan shoved his jeans and boxers down a little, freeing his hard, leaking cock. "I don't want you to come just yet," Raylan commanded, his voice thick with lust. Tim was pained at the loss of Raylan's hand on his cock -- he had been so close to coming -- and emitted a soft whine. But then Raylan crawled up Tim's body, planting a knee under each of Tim's armpits. He threaded one hand through Tim's hair and planted the other on the far arm of the couch behind Tim's head, bracing himself at an angle over Tim's mouth as he lowered himself down.

Tim's desire quickly switched gears and he focused on the cock in front of his mouth. Jesus, he'd fantasized about sucking off Raylan since the day they met. Those slim hips, those lean muscular thighs, that taut stomach, and now, that gorgeous, thick, dripping cock.

Tim grabbed Raylan's hip with his left hand to steady him, wrapped his right hand around the base of his cock, and wrapped his lips around his head. Raylan immediately began moaning as Tim tongued his wet slit, then ran his tongue all the way around Raylan's head, his lips still wrapped around the ridge of his head. Raylan wasn't patient enough and held Tim's head in place as he began shallowly thrusting into his mouth. Tim took more and more of him in with each thrust, his tongue continually working against the underside of Raylan's cock. Soon Tim was taking all of him in, his right hand flat against Raylan's stomach as he expertly let Raylan deep-throat each thrust.

"Jesus," Raylan moaned out in admiration of Tim's skills, and began thrusting harder and faster into Tim's mouth and throat. Tim gagged slightly at first, but quickly recovered and continued sucking Raylan, his head bobbing in rhythmic counter-motion with Raylan's thrusts. He could feel and taste Raylan actively leaking precome into his mouth. (God, he tasted so fucking good.) He made sure Raylan was fully in his mouth any time he swallowed more of his precome, to maximize the additional sucking-pressure along his whole cock. Raylan gasped the first time Tim did it, and then wantonly moaned the times thereafter, increasing his thrusts each time.

Tim had fantasized about this countless times before. And it was better than he could've hoped.

He began to feel a primal, burning need to make Raylan come. It was way more important than his own orgasm. His own cock was badly aching from getting so close to coming and then finding no release, and he still felt electrically charged with his orgasm's looming proximity. Hell, he thought he might even be able to come without touching his cock again, because he was so absurdly turned on by blowing Raylan.

Raylan emitted a moan that was purely pornographic, and Tim's full attention was quickly refocused on trying to give Raylan Givens the best blowjob of his life. And from the noises Raylan was making, he appeared to be succeeding.

Raylan tightened his grip in Tim's hair, pulled his head back slightly, leaned farther over him, and began thrusting harder and faster into Tim's mouth than he ever thought he would do to anyone. And Tim was taking it like a pro. Raylan was full-on face-fucking Tim, and his partner was clearly loving it. Tim's hands were now both on Raylan's hips, encouraging him to thrust into his mouth with abandon, and he was emitting low, desperate moans from deep in his throat -- whenever Raylan's cock wasn't filling it, that is.

Raylan needed just a little more... just a little more...

He was thrusting fast now, really fast, and Tim was continually sucking, as well as continuing to undulate his tongue on the underside of Raylan's shaft and head. The thrusting and sucking combined was effectively milking Raylan's cock. "Fuck," Raylan gritted out. His grip in Tim's hair was so hard it hurt, but Tim was so turned on that he didn't care if Raylan ripped out his hair. "God... oh god... _fuck_ \-- Tim--"

Tim looked up at him and saw the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen: Raylan's long body arched up to the point where he was standing up on his knees, his head thrown back, his mouth open. He was a perfect sculpture of tension on the brink of release.

"God yes, Tim-- yes, fuck yes... oh god, don't stop, I'm gonna-- I'm gonna come--"

Tim moaned encouragingly and sucked on Raylan's aching cock even harder. Raylan's other hand was now also in Tim's hair, bracing his head, desperate to come. Tim slid both his hands around to Raylan's perfect ass and rhythmically pulled him deeper into his throat with each thrust.

"Tim, _yes_ , god-- I'm gonna come... _I'm gonna come_ \-- I--" Raylan's words were cut off with a gasp, followed by the most wanton, loud groan Tim had ever heard. And then Raylan was coming into Tim's mouth, his hot ejaculate spurting down his partner's throat as Tim greedily sucked it out of him. Raylan was still thrusting into his mouth, but more erratically now; Tim's hands on his ass helped guide him through several more thrusts, each accompanied with another hot spurt of come down Tim's throat. Raylan loudly groaned with each pump.

Soon Raylan's thrusting lessened, and less semen filled Tim's mouth each pulse. Instead of letting Raylan thrust out the last couple spurts, Tim took him all the way in and undulated his tongue along the underside of Raylan's cock while sucking deeply. He held him there for the last couple spurts until Raylan's moans became much quieter, and his body began slightly trembling above Tim.

Tim pulled back from Raylan's cock with one last, long (but gentle) suck up the length of it, lapping up the last few beads of come from the head of his cock. His hands came to rest on Raylan's hips.

Raylan looked down at him in adoring disbelief. "Holy fuck," he breathed, his eyes heavy and his mouth slack.

Tim suddenly became painfully aware of how badly he needed to come. Raylan had brought him to the edge, and then sucking Raylan's cock had been such a turn-on that he was still extremely close. Now that he'd finished the (blow)job at hand, he desperately needed his own release.

Tim maneuvered an arm between Raylan's thighs, reaching down his own body to grasp his aching cock. Sure enough, he was still leaking plenty of precome all over himself. Tim dropped his head back with a moan as he began pumping his cock, his free hand still on Raylan's hip. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, and his lips still coated in Raylan's come. Within several pumps, his body arched up some and his head slammed back farther, his face in a silent yell as he came all over his own stomach.

"God yeah," Raylan breathed in appreciation, still catching his breath, as he watched Tim's face through his orgasm.

Tim lied there with his eyes closed, panting, for several long moments.

"Y'know, I woulda taken care of that for you."

Tim's eyebrows quirked up and then right back down, almost like a shrug. "Couldn't wait."

Raylan contentedly smirked at him, but Tim didn't see, as his eyes were still closed. Then he swung his leg over Tim like he was dismounting a horse, stood up next to the couch, and hoisted up his boxers and jeans. Slowly, reluctantly, Tim moved to pull up and fasten his own jeans, but his eyes stayed closed and he continued to breathe heavily.

Raylan grabbed his own undershirt off the floor and tossed it onto Tim's come-streaked stomach. Tim opened his eyes, saw the shirt, and vaguely nodded once in appreciation as he began to clean himself off. Once he was mostly wiped clean, he swung his legs off the front of the couch and returned to an upright sitting position. Raylan flopped down heavily next to him with a content sigh and sprawled out.

They both sat in silence for a few moments, their breathing returning to normal.

Raylan hummed appreciatively, "That was the best god damn blowjob I ever had."

Tim chuckled. "Thanks." And then, after a brief pause, he added nonchalantly, "That was the best god damn dick I've ever sucked."

Raylan snorted and grinned. "Glad you like it."

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, both feeling satisfied, boneless, and at ease. Finally Raylan lolled his head towards Tim and made eye contact with his partner for the first time since they'd both come. "Want a beer?" They were both a bit less drunk now, so it was a reasonable offer.

Tim smiled lazily. "Sure."

Tim unabashedly let his eyes explore Raylan as he sauntered into the kitchen, grabbed two beers, opened them, and returned to the couch. He handed Tim one before flopping back down on the couch and splaying out his long limbs. They both took a long drink.

Tim casually asked, "So... how long we gonna wait 'til we do that again?" He phrased the question intentionally, leaving it open to mean another round that night, or another round some night in the future. (Or -- he badly hoped this wouldn't be how Raylan responded -- letting him say it was fun, but they shouldn't do it again.)

Raylan acted like Tim had asked where he wanted to go for lunch, and mildly thought about it for a moment. "I dunno... maybe give me half an hour?"

Hiding his relief and excitement, Tim cocked an incredulous eyebrow at the cowboy. "Half an hour? Christ, old man, what the hell happened to your refractory period?"

Raylan was mock defensive. "Hey now, I just came harder than I've come in a long, long time. Gimme a minute to enjoy a couple beers with the best damn cocksucker in the world."

Tim couldn't help but grin, and he nodded once his acquiescence. He tipped the neck of his bottle towards Raylan, who clinked his beer against Tim's.

"Next time, wear the hat."

Raylan broke out in a grin before taking another drink.

They were both definitely going to enjoy their new arrangement.


End file.
